


I Do It For You

by LLReid



Category: Bloodbound (Visual Novel)
Genre: Ancient Egypt, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Human/Vampire Relationship, Kamilah the nurse, Vampire Queen - Freeform, flu season, lesbihonest she would be freaking tf out, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21832999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid
Summary: A very worried/out of her depth ancient vampire queen attempts to nurse her mortal girlfriend through flu season.Fic inspired by the song ‘(Everything I do) I Do It For You’ by Bryan Adams.~~~~~“Listen to me,” she said, her voice even and intense, “and listen well, because I’m only going to say this once. I desire you. I burn for you. I can’t sleep during the day for wanting you. Even when I didn’t like you, I lusted for you. It’s the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is. And if I hear one more word of nonsense from your lips, I’m going to have to tie you to the bloody bed and gag you. Are we clear?”
Relationships: Kamilah Sayeed/Anastasia Swann, Kamilah Sayeed/Main Character (Bloodbound)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 110





	I Do It For You

“You were not answering your phone and Lily and Adrian both said you were unwell?!,” Kamilah said as a means of announcing her presence as she let herself into Anastasia’s apartment so frantically that she almost tore the front door from its hinges. Etiquette be damned, she was not waisting time knocking on the door and then waiting for the mortal to answer. Not when neither of their friends could give her an accurate description of what exactly was wrong with her. Not when Anastasia hadn’t seen or replied to anyone’s calls or text messages in hours and had missed out on work.

For the first time in years Kamilah had cancelled everything on her schedule at only a moments notice. Upon finding out the girl she was falling in love with was ill she’d become far too distressed to work or be far from her side. Mortals were fragile beings and especially prone to illness in the colder months of the year, that she knew only too well.

“You gave me a fucking heart attack,” Anastasia croaked as she appeared in the doorway of her bedroom looking like someone on deaths door. Her skin was so pale that it was actually grey, her long ginger hair was a mess and was matted around her feverish face, and she was trembling and had to lean against the wood of the doorframe to keep herself upright. Kamilah had seen plague and spanish influenza victims look far healthier than Anastasia did.

Within only a matter of seconds Kamilah was at her side and carrying her back to her bed as gently as she could manage. She hadn’t the first idea how to treat a sick human. “This is not normal. We are taking you to the hospital right now. There must be a specialist of some kind—“

“Kamilah,” Anastasia interjected, softly, as she was laid on the mattress. She knew better than most people that the vampire’s mind was a strange and incomprehensible organ — one which most mortals couldn’t even attempt to understand. There wasn't a woman alive who could go from point A to B without stopping at C, D, X, and 12 along the way like Kamilah Sayeed could when someone she cared about was hurting. “It’s just the seasonal flu. I’ll live.”

“You’re not a doctor—“

“No, but I‘m one of the unlucky few who comes down with something like this at least once a year. I’ll be fine in a day or two...just trust me—,” she cut herself off with a painful sounding cough that wracked through her entire body.

“Why did you not call me or answer your phone?,” the ancient vampire asked. She was doing her damnedest not to lose her temper but she hadn’t ever felt so concerned with someone else’s wellbeing before and she wasn’t merely scared, she was terrified. “I have sent you twelve text messages in the last hour and have called you at least twenty times!”

“I left my phone in the bathroom when I was throwing up earlier and felt too dizzy to go back and get it. I’m sorry.”

“You’ve been throwing up?”

Anastasia nodded weakly and a pang of sympathy ran through her heart. The bathroom was just across the hall from her bedroom, a distance that was absolutely no trouble for the girl when she was at full health. She sat down beside her on the mattress and bent down to press a kiss on her forehead, trying to show her with her kiss what she was still learning to express in words. She loved her. She worshipped her. She’d walk across fire for her. Love was about finding the one person who makes your heart complete. Who makes you a better person than you ever dreamed you could be. It was about looking in the eyes of another and knowing all the way to your bones that she was simply the best person you've ever known...and for her that was Anastasia.

“How exactly does one usually go about treating...the flu?,” she asked with an embarrassing amount of uncertainty in her voice. “It has been quite some time since I have been around a sick human...and even longer since I cared about making one feel better.”

“You don’t have to do anything. Don’t you have work—“

“Not tonight,” she interjected. 

“You don’t?”

“When I found out you were unwell and when you weren’t answering your phone I cancelled everything and came straight here. I care about you more than anything I had planned...everything else can wait until you’re well again.”

Anastasia blinked, her icy blue eyes widening in what Kamilah could only call awe. In the soft white glow of the string lights wrapped around her headboard her eyes sparkled at her as if they were forged of sapphire, even bloodshot and rimmed red they captivated her attention in a way that no other set of eyes ever had. It took her back to the first time she’d gazed into them and saw Anastasia the person, instead of just another human liability with the potential to get Adrian hurt or killed. In every life there is a turning point. A moment so tremendous, so sharp and clear that one feels as if one's been hit in the chest, all the breath knocked out, and one knows, absolutely knows without the merest hint of a shadow of a doubt that one's life will never be the same. For her, looking into Anastasia’s eyes for the first time had been that turning point.

“You— I mean—“

Rather than listening to her further hoarsen herself stammering, Kamilah placed the gentlest kiss she could manage on her chapped lips to silence her. “Now you can either give me some guidance or I can subject you to the worst nursing you will ever experience. I’m sure things have changed significantly since my mortal life...so I won’t subject you to any ancient remedies.”

That brought a small smile to Anastasia’s lips. “Fluids, rest, and Tylenol.”

“That doesn’t seem like nearly enough. You look like you’re breathing your last and you honestly expect fluids, rest, and over the counter medications to cure you?! No.”

“No?,” smirked Anastasia.

“No.”

“Are you a doctor now?”

Kamilah opened her mouth to retort, but sensing the teasing tone in Anastasia’s voice as she threw her own words back at her made her giggle. Deep inside, Kamilah had always known who she was, and that person was smart and kind and often even funny, but somehow her personality always got lost somewhere between her heart and her mouth, and she found herself saying the wrong thing or, more often, nothing at all. Stoicism had been all she’d presented to the world for a long, long time. Having someone see through that felt...incredibly pleasant...even if that someone had become an incubus plague overnight.

“Anastasia, do you value your neck?"

"Yes, I'm rather fond of it,” Anastasia replied in her best imitation of Kamilah’s voice. “Why?"

"Because if you don't shut up and let me nurse you back to health, I'm going to wring it,” she deadpanned, smirking the entire time.

“Kinky.”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Never.”

She sucked in a deep breath. Anastasia wasn’t going to make it easy on her, she already knew that. But that didn’t matter. She had vowed to do things right where their relationship was concerned, and she would not be cowed or scared off by her lack of human medical experience. In sickness and in health, as it were.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice even and intense, “and listen well, because I’m only going to say this once. I desire you. I burn for you. I can’t sleep during the day for wanting you. Even when I didn’t like you, I lusted for you. It’s the most maddening, beguiling, damnable thing, but there it is. And if I hear one more word of nonsense from your lips, I’m going to have to tie you to the bloody bed and gag you. Are we clear?”

“Don’t make me horny when I’m sick,” whined Anastasia. She pouted her lips petulantly, which was oddly satisfying. “Its unfair. I’m incapable of having sex with you right now despite the fact I want it and I look a mess. Don’t I look a mess?”

She huffed and nodded her head. “But you’re my mess.”

It wasn’t often that Kamilah stayed home as darkness swallowed New York, and even less frequent that she stayed in bed. Yet, she was more than happy to lay down in Anastasia’s bed with her after practically water boarding her and drugging her with extra strength Tylenol...and she became proficient in the task of cleaning up vomit. Taking care of a sick person was rotten work but because it was her she didn’t mind it too much. But she was scared, even if Anastasia had assured her that she wasn’t direly unwell despite how sick she actually was. It was the first time even after all these years of expecting her own death in battle or from enemies seeking vengeance that she truly knew what it meant to fear death, because even just entertaining the anxiety fuelled idea of Anastasia being gone made her feel like there was nothing left for her to live for.

“You’re doing that thing again where you’re internally freaking out and putting on a brave face, aren’t you?,” Anastasia mumbled.

She shook her head in wonder, never stilling the hand that was soothingly petting the wispy strands of ginger hair that had matted around her face out of the way. "You are magnificent."

"I keep telling everyone that," she said with a nonchalant shrug, she lifted their entwined hands to her lips, brushing a feather-light kiss across Kamilah’s knuckles, "But you seem to be the only one to believe me.”

The vampire huffed, rolling her eyes as dramatically as she could manage. This thing between them, this bond — it wasn’t just passion, like she had experienced with every other lover she’d taken, and it wasn’t wicked. It was love, and it was divine. As horrifying and terrifying as being seen through was, there was something oddly comforting about it.

“I think the last time I cared for a sick human was when Lysimachus fell off of his chariot during one of the races he and his friends used to partake in whenever they had a free moment,” she confessed, quietly. “He cut his left leg and the wound got infected...was off his feet for almost a month.”

“A month? That must’ve been one nasty cut.”

She hummed. “Not by modern standards, no. Though, before the discovery of antibiotics even the smallest cut could become a death sentence...especially when the patient refused to follow physicians advice.”

“So he was stubborn like you then?”

“Worse than me. He was always worse.” She smiled sadly and affectionately nuzzled her face into the crown of her head, more for her own comfort than anything else. “A day after his fall he was up and back to his old antics and two days later he fainted over dinner as the infection took hold. Unlike you, who actually agreed to stay in bed without me having to restrain you, I did eventually resort to tying him to his bedposts to get him to be still and allow himself to heal. He wasn’t pleased with me.”

The softest kiss was pressed on the corner of Kamilah’s jaw. For the first time in a long time she didn’t feel like she was drowning as she thought of her brother. For the first time in even longer she could remember the smell of his favourite Cyprinum fragrance and the soft sound of his laughter. She wasn’t quite sure why those memories that she had purposely blocked out returned to her just then or even why she felt compelled to speak of Lysimachus at all. Maybe it was just Anastasia. Sharing with her was not as difficult as it was with other people.

“I remember when his infection got particularly bad he started hallucinating,” she continued. “I made tea for him, thinking he might have slept for a bit. He didn’t, no matter how much tea I gave him...he was too stubborn to allow it to work. It’d have been better for everyone if he’d just slept, because he was quite certain he’d seen a six-foot rabbit hopping through his bedchamber and became convinced we were all in very big trouble.”

Anastasia giggled. “Fevers are wild like that.”

“Mhm. Although really, Cleopatra just made it all worse when she pretended to be able to see what he did and told him it wasn’t the rabbit that was so dangerous as much as the giant carrot he was swinging about like a mace.”

“And that’s when you resorted to tying him down?”

“Yes. I was not about to indulge my imbecile of a cousin and my invalid of a brother in hunting a giant rabbit through the streets of Alexandria whilst Egypt was on the brink of war.”

When she leaned back to look at her face she saw that Anastasia’s eyes were becoming a little more glazed as the medication she’d given her slowly began to set in. Even in her half-drugged state there were no words for the passion lingering in her gaze. No words for the need. No words for the sheer epiphany of the moment. Her face was so pretty, and so dear, and so perfectly wonderfully familiar. She knew the slope of her cheeks, and the exact shade of her eyes, greenish near the iris, melting into a vibrant blue at the edges. And her mouth— she knew that mouth, the look of it, the feel of it. She knew her smile, and she knew her frown, and she knew...she knew far too much.

“Thank you for telling me that,” the younger woman murmured. “I like hearing your stories.”

“I’ll tell you more in time,” she whispered, whilst trying to fluff her pillow a little for her. “How are you feeling now? Other than terrible, I mean.”

Anastasia moved her head slightly to the side. It seemed to be a sickly interpretation of a shrug.

“Of course you’re feeling terrible,” she clarified, “but is there any change? More terrible? Less terrible?”

Anastasia smiled, softly.

“The same amount of terrible?,” she prodded.

Anastasia’s smile grew bigger.

“What are you smiling about?,” Kamilah demanded.

Anastasia didn't bother to glance up as she settled with her head on her chest and replied, "I'm plotting your demise."

She grinned — not that she was looking at her, but it was one of those smiles she knew could and would be heard in the way she breathed. Anastasia was sensitive to her every nuance, just as she was the same way about her.

"At least it sounds entertaining," she said.

"What does?" Anastasia asked, finally moving her eyes from the subtly embroidered pattern on Kamilah’s blouse, which she'd been staring at for what already seemed like hours.

"My demise," she said, her smile crooked and amused at the light-weight about to knocked out from her cold medicine. "If you're going to kill me, you might as well enjoy yourself while you're at it, because Lord knows, I won't."

Anastasia’s jaw dropped a good inch. "You're mad.”

“And you’re high.” She pulled the blankets around her trembling body and tightened her embrace around her. “Now get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

Thankfully, Anastasia didn’t put up any sort of a fight. The warm and bright smile she gave her before closing her eyes reminded her what sunlight used to feel like on her skin, it made her want to try to give her the world. Curled up in her arms where she could feel her touch, Kamilah realised again that she loved her so much. Her world had turned from black to white. Her every night was spent kissing in the starlight, basking in the moonlight, being thankful for yet another midnight. She would give the world, as for the first time in more than two thousand years she had someone for whom she would willingly lay down her life.

“I love you," she whispered to the sleeping woman, and it felt as if the whole world settled into place when she finally told her, despite knowing that Anastasia was unaware of what she had said. “I cannot remember the last time I allowed myself to be so happy. I smile all day long without knowing why. I cancelled a bloody hectic schedule, practically vaulted through your front door, and here I am. It's the middle of the night, and yet here I am with you...holding perfection in my arms.”


End file.
